


Wandering

by Dei_os



Category: End Roll (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Dragons!! and Knights and Magic and stuff!!!!!!!!!, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, No Spoilers, Tags will update as I update the story, little to no proofreading
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-05
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2021-01-23 10:40:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21318841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dei_os/pseuds/Dei_os
Summary: Alternate title : "A Story About A Knight, A Prankster, and A Cook, and How They're Held Responsible for the Lives of Thousands Despite only being 14"or : "A Tale Describing the Events Leading Up to An Accidental Kidnapping, All Starting From the Fact Monsters Showed Up In Russell's Village"Russell returns home after spending 4 years in the Emerald Kingdom, under the mastery of Sir Yumi Bombers.As a certified knight, he is held accountable for protecting his hometown-- a nameless floodplain village nicknamed "The Puddle" by outsiders.Upon returning home, Russell finds out that the already heavy rains have been getting increasingly worse-- destroying crops and properties. As the people's spirits lower, and strange demons start to slowly inch closer to the town day by day-- Russell, along with his childhood friend (and resident trouble maker) Chris, and the town sweetheart (and 2nd resident trouble maker) Gardenia, set back out to the prosperous Emerald Kingdom to ask for assistance with their town's epidemic of problems.------------------------------------------------------------------------------------"Russell's babey but now he has a sword." -Ater 2k19
Kudos: 12





	1. You Should Never Hesitate To Tell Someone You Love Them

**Author's Note:**

> Russell says his goodbyes.

“Well kiddo, I guess this is goodbye.” 

A small pat on the head-- her hand brushed through a mess of curls, smoothing out the teased roots, hesitant, unwilling to stop the repetitive action. The young boy before her looked up at her, no longer tense under her affectionate touch like was he was a quadrennial before. He could hold her gaze without feeling the need to glance away. He almost leaned into her touch, but stopped himself. He _wanted _\-- no he _had_ to tell her.

“Yumi,” His voice was like a whistle of wind-- disappearing as quick as it appeared-- and the woman listened intently for his every word, “I...”

The boy pressed his lips together into a stitched line-- a small habit that showed hesitance. Yumi moved her hand from his head to his shoulder, patting it reassuringly. A small demonstration that meant ‘take your time’. Russell looked down at his feet, thinking for a moment before turning his head back up.

“Thank you.” The boy’s words surprised Yumi, and Yumi couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle-- suddenly pulling the boy into a headlock and ruffling his already disheveled hair. The boy simply let it happen, leaning back into Yumi’s arms. 

“Aww, Russell, you don’t need to thank me for anythin’!” Yumi held Russell an arms length away, allowing him to recover from the sudden wrestling-- a bright grin on her face. While she _ did _say that Russell didn’t need to thank her, her happiness was evident.

“But… Yumi…” Russell’s speech was stopped by Yumi raising her hand, in which she knelt down to his height.

“Russell, kiddo,” Yumi shook her head, still grinning, and patted him on the shoulder once more. “You really don’t have to thank me. Just spending these last few years with you was thanks enough.” 

Russell looked down at his feet once more-- unsure if the warm, tight feeling in his chest was something good-- and _ if _ it was good, did he deserve it? 

Yumi sensed the doubt floundering in his eyes-- what an elusive mind the boy had-- and let out a soft sigh. Russell’s eyes snapped up at the sound of her sigh-- searching Yumi’s face for any sort of sign of disappointment, annoyance, aggression, _ anything _\-- but found none of the expressions he was so inclined to expect.

Instead, he found content-- and a gentle sort of satisfaction and pride in her eyes that Russell was always surprised to find, despite how often Yumi gave him such a look.Yumi let out a small grunt as she sat down on the ground of the train platform-- patting the stone flooring next to Russell’s feet.

Russell sat down, looking and Yumi with questioning eyes. Yumi held her left arm up to chest-- untying the leather vambrace on her forearm. When it was sufficiently loosened, she slid it off, and held out her hand. With no words exchanged, Yumi slid the vambrace onto Russell’s forearm, tightening it until the two leather ends touched. The black string that fastened the vambrace together was left in excesses, and wrapped around the vambrace until it was sufficiently snug when tied into a bow. Russell ran his fingertips over the brown leather, feeling the intricate stitching-- the bumps and creases and cuts on the worn leather. His fingers reached the string-- and he motioned to pull the bow apart and remove the leather encasing his arm-- but Yumi’s gentle hand stopped him.

“Russell, it’s a memento.” Yumi smiled wearily-- was this boy really going to be okay on his own? “Keep it, to remember me while you’re gone.”

Russell stared at the vambrace, then at Yumi-- a small frown tugging at his lips.

“I…” _ I can’t accept this _ . _ It means so much to you _ . _ It’s yours, not mine. _ Russell let the silent words fly from his mind, and instead said: “I have nothing to give you.”

“You don’t need to give me a thing, Russ.” But Russell simply shook his head. “Okay, how ‘bout… you write me a letter?”

“...A letter?” Yumi nodded.

“Yeah-- I know how much you like writing in that little book of yours-- so if you write me a letter every so often ‘bout how you’re doin’, I’ll pin them up on my wall and they’ll be there to remind me that you’re doin’ all right.” Yumi patted Russell on the head once more, and Russell nodded along in understanding. 

“Okay…” Russell turned away-- and Yumi stood from her spot in the ground, pulling Russell up by the hand as well.

The distant sound of a booming whistle made them both jump, a mutual pang hitting their hearts. Russell squeezed Yumi’s hand just a little tighter-- and Yumi squeezed his hand back as the loud chugging of metal rolling on metal screeched behind them. Russell zipped up his lips once more-- tensing up to silence the oncoming trembles in his hands-- arms-- heart. Russell shivered, and slipped his hand out of Yumi’s quietly. 

The train rolled to a stop-- the whistle blowing once more, echoing throughout the quaint, barren grasslands surrounding the train platform. There wasn’t another soul at the platform-- there hardly ever was-- but the conductors announced the time of dispatch-- and Russell knew he only had a few minutes to spare. 

Russell’s hand felt cold, so he decided to replace the discomfort with the handlebar of his bulky luggage. Russell turned around, stepping onto the metal stairs leaning into the train cart. Yumi clenched her hands, a few feet away, and her voice broke out-- louder than she intended.

“Russell I--” Yumi cut herself off-- and Russell turned to face her. His heart clenched, and hers did too-- and Russell was sure this wasn’t the first time Yumi tried to tell him.

But instead of telling him the words that she wanted to say-- and the words he wanted her to say-- Yumi simply smiled, shook her head-- and said something else.

“Russ, you’re a good kid. Take care.” 


	2. A Meal for One can be A Meal for Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Russell returns to his hometown, and finds out it's worse-off than he remembered, but that's okay.

The train ride back was lonely despite the train attendants occasionally checking in on the lone teen. They would ask him if he was okay-- if he ever traveled alone before, if he knew when to get off, if he was too hot or too cold, if this, if that…

Russell was quite glad when the ride was over, as he was brought back into familiar ground. He doubted that his hometown has changed much-- it stayed the same for the first 10 years of his life, what difference could 4 years make?

As Russell thought this, his feet sped across the threshold separating the dreary, decrepit, brick train station from the muddy dirt road that led to his hometown. Sprinkles of raindrops drowned the ground-- it rained quite frequently-- and the fresh drops on the crops lining the dirt path indicated that it heavy rain struck once again, and quite recently too. 

Russell let out a sigh as his boots sunk into the ground with an uncomfortable squelch, looking up at the sky. The sky was gray, and the darker, thicker clouds in the distance foretelling yet another episode of rainfall soon enough. Russell let out a shiver, pulling the cape around his shoulders closer to his body, but the cape was nothing more than a thin blanket that did very little against the cold winds that sunk right down to his bones. 

He needed to be quicker.

Russell picked up his pace again, hoping the movement would make him at least a bit warmer. As the town slowly edged into view-- the rain started to drop off in heavier doses-- and soon  the gooey mud path turned into a murky swamp. He raised his arms over his head, attempting to shield himself from the rain, but his drenched coat offered no protection against the liquid elements. Russell’s mud-caked boots sloshed against the ground-- he needed to be faster,  _ faster _ \-- even faster until he could reach the town-- until he could reach shelter-- 

Until he tripped.

Russell sputtered, spitting out the mud the enter his mouth-- disgusted and uncomfortable as the rest of his clothes were not only soaked in rain water, but now mud as well-- sticking to his skin with an uncomfortable, wet suction. He pushed himself up, sitting on his knees as he stared down at the murky pool of black and dark red-- the taste of iron strong in his mouth--

Russell wiped a hand against his face, coated in the same dark red that mixed with the mud-- and stared down at carcass in front of him-- is that--?

Russell stood up, refusing to meet eyes with the primate that laid on the ground like road kill. He refused to acknowledge the fact that he just fell face-first into the guts of that animal. He refused to acknowledge the inky black insides that mixed the dirt.

He needed to get away .

When Russell reached the entrance of the town, he found it looked more desolate than he remembered. The people dragged their feet, shackled by exhaustion. Some gave him a weary glance-- which was understandable. Before he left, he was quite the troublemaker, although often he didn’t do anything himself.

The main troublemaker was the one village boy who he tolerated, and tolerated him-- Chris. 

He was clever, indeed, but was unfortunately too busy working and causing a ruckus to truly use his brains for anything useful. 

His eyes searched for the only other villager he could call a friend-- but only found emaciated adults. If Chris wasn’t here, he was probably somewhere else in the village-- Russell would see him soon enough.

The clench of his stomach reminded him to eat-- reminding him that an apple wasn’t enough to appease his appetite, especially after spending four years eating a hearty, warm meal 3 times a day. So  Russell decided to visit the only restaurant in the village-- no way did  _ they _ have anything for him to eat, nor could he ask random villagers who knew he spelled trouble, so the restaurant seemed to be the most sensible place for him to get food. 

A bell signaled Russell’s arrival, and Russell immediately took notice of the warmth-- the rickety wooden doors and windows working wonders against the cold, wet wind outside. Russell looked around the entrance, searching for a coat rack-- hesitant to trail mud and water inside the restaurant. There weren’t many other people, most were at the bar-- drinking their worries away like always-- and the people who sat at the regular tables seemed to stare into space, bored as they waited for their food.

Russell rubbed the soles of his shoes against the carpet, scraping off the mud that caked his boots-- sighing softly as his socks squelched in water. He shuddered, peeling the thin fabric of thin cotton long sleeve off his arms and rolling it up. Small, tightened bumps of skin littered his skin-- and Russell rubbed his arms to try and warm his chilled skin.

_ “Russell?”  _

A high and melodic voice resounded-- a voice that distinctly was like a bell. Russell looked up from his arms, meeting eyes with the source of the voice. 

“... Gardenia…” Russell spoke softly-- but his voice rang louder than Gardenia has ever remembered. She smiled brightly, running up to Russell and grabbing his hands as she seemed to vibrate with excitement.

“Oh, Russell-- it is you!” Gardenia grinned as brightly as she always has-- but Russell could see the burden of exhaustion and stress in her eyes. He pursed his lips and furrowed his eyebrows-- a question that never left his lips, but indeed reached her ears. “Ah-- things have changed while you were gone…”

Russell glanced outside, from over his shoulder, before turning back to Gardenia and nodding. Things have indeed changed-- and he was sure it was for the worst. He unbuttoned his cape-- folding it up in his hands as Gardenia pushed him along.

“Here, here-- take a seat by the fireplace. You look like a wet dog.” Gardenia spoke with a joking, teasing voice-- as always. Russell let out a small air through his nose, that was the closest to a laugh if Gardenia has ever heard one from him. Her grin widened. “Let me get you something to eat, I’ll be right back.”

Russell gave Gardenia a slight nod, before turning towards the fireplace and setting his suitcase on the ground-- sitting on top of it-- close enough to feel the warmth, but not close enough to feel the heat in waves. His nails idly traced against the pattern on the wood floors-- and his leg bounced restlessly. He wasn’t used to just sitting and waiting-- he was used to having to run around, scarfing his food down with a sword in hand, deflecting Yumi's sparring, lest Yumi would snatch the food from him.

_ Yumi _ .

Russell felt his stomach twist, and suddenly he no longer felt hungry. He felt colder than he had felt when he was standing outside in the rain and mud. His small frame shook, and his throat tightened uncomfortably. With a frown, he hardened his gaze as he stared at the fire-- his arms fastening his legs against his chest. He hoped the warmth of the fire would wash away the cold, sick feeling he had. 

A comforting weight dropped onto Russell’s shoulders, and he turned to his right-- facing Gardenia, who had returned with a tray of steaming food.

“Here ya’ go, Russell!” Gardenia sat the tray down on the coffee table to Russell’s right, and Russell scooted to the table, rubbing his hands together to warm them up. “It’s some stew made from some leftover ingredients-- so feel free to eat up!”

Russell gave Gardenia a questioning glance, and opened his mouth to speak-- but was cut off by Gardenia.

“It’s on the house.” Gardenia sat down next to Russell, leaning against the table. “To celebrate your return-- ya’ know. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you.”

Russell nodded, staring down at the stew-- he could recognize some veggies and chunks of potato in the thick, white soup. He stirred, dipping his spoon in and out of the soup slowly-- and Gardenia giggled.

“You still play with your food?” She asked-- folding her arms and laying her head on them. Russell looked away-- and Gardenia giggled again. “I’m just teasing-- c’mon, eat!”

Russell nodded, and began eating-- jolting as the hot soup burned his tongue. He held his hand over his mouth, swallowing hurriedly and cringing as the warm liquid seemed to burn the rest of his mouth. Gardenia’s giggles grew into a full laugh-- and she attempted to muffle her laughter by covering her mouth-- but it didn’t seem to contain her fit.

“Russell, you’re so silly.” Gardenia shook her head as her laughs died down. “You’ve changed… but you’re still the same.”

Russell stared at his soup, contemplating-- thinking-- as always. He pursed his lips.

“I could say the same for you, Gardenia.” Russell commented, after some time. He continued eating. 

Russell only caught a quick glance of Gardenia’s awed expression-- and coughed into his hand to hide his brief, silent laughter. 

It was only the truth-- the Gardenia he knew 4 years ago was nowhere near as… mellow as she is now. The lack of excitement in her voice and her actions was unsettling in a way-- and much like the other villagers he saw, she looked haggard-- why, he couldn’t tell. But, she was still the same Gardenia with the same sweet, optimistic smile that never seemed to die-- the same expressive face, and the same, comforting laughs. Russell took comfort that she was the same… just aged. 

“What happened while I was gone?” Russell asked as he ripped his loaf of bread in half, handing the other half to Gardenia-- who accepted.

Russell frowned at the rough calluses on her fingers-- the scratches and bruises-- the way her hands shook as she hesitantly grabbed the other half. 

“Oh.. well…” Gardenia glanced over her shoulder-- out the window by the entrance of the restaurant. The wind seemed to accelerate-- rain pattering louder and louder by the second. “A few things…”

Russell took a bite of bread-- nodding slightly. Gardenia took a bite of her own.

“Recently the rain has been worse… causing floods and destroying farms and homes.” Gardenia sighed, turning towards the fireplace. “We’ve been having a famine-- whatever crops we manage to get are given to my dad-- and then he makes big meals for all of us to share.”

Russell glanced as people began to pour into the restaurant to hide from the rain-- very few giving anyone else a second glance.

“It’s been… difficult. Everyone’s down all the time… the gloomy weather isn’t helping much.” Gardenia stretched, taking another bite of bread. Russell ripped off a piece of bread and dipped it into the excess soup stuck on the sides of the bowl. “The restaurant has been super busy-- it’s stressful trying to make sure that everyone gets food. Some people can’t even leave their homes so I go out and deliver it to them.”

Russell nodded, listening attentively as he continued to eat.

“Not only that but the…” Gardenia bit her lip-- looking back over her shoulder, outside. Russell looked out the window-- and saw nothing, but Gardenia had anticipation in her eyes-- she had  _ fear _ in her eyes. 

Gardenia looked away, back down at her loaf of bread. “My dad doesn’t let me do deliveries anymore. Too dangerous… but I get so worried about the people who aren’t able to get food…”

Russell rubbed his hands together-- flicking off breadcrumbs from his fingers. 

“Does no one else do deliveries?” Gardenia shrugged. 

“Sometimes people volunteer-- but now everyone’s too exhausted to try…” Gardenia smiled-- though. “Chris helps out most of the time. Mostly because it gets him an extra bit of food to share with his mom.”

Russell nodded-- Chris normally worked odd jobs just to get some extra food, although he doubted Chris shared the food with his mom, but rather gave all of it to her. 

Russell grabbed an apple off the tray, taking a large bite into it-- he was still pretty hungry. 

“You sure eat a lot now, Russell-- you better not eat everything in the restaurant.” Gardenia pinched Russell in the side, and Russell slowly shifted away until Gardenia let go. “I’m glad you gained some weight-- you used to be so skinny, I was kinda worried.”

Russell looked away-- he understood that she was simply joking, and that it was with good intentions-- but it didn’t stop the uneasy feeling in his chest. 

“Training to be a knight… it takes a lot of energy…” Russell took another bite out of the apple. “They provided a lot of food, so we could eat as much as we wanted-- but only if we had the time.”

“Ah, that sounds nice.” Gardenia nudged Russell in the shoulder. “You think they have any food they can spare us?”

“They probably do… It’s called the “Kingdom of Green” for a reason…” Russell sighed-- reminiscing his time spent in the kingdom that was hundreds of thousands of miles away. The four years there felt like nothing-- but like everything-- to him.

“I wonder if they’re prosperous enough to help us out…” Gardenia sighed, exaggeratedly. “I’ve been trying to get the other adults to ask for help… but they all say it’s impossible-- that they don’t have time for some small village that’s going to fall apart.”

Russell said nothing-- but turned to look back outside. Russell didn’t want to tell Gardenia that the older villagers were probably right-- that their village was insignificant to the empire. 

Russell set the apple core back onto the tray, and Gardenia kept to rambling about this and that-- how daily life in the village has changed. The roofs are reinforced to keep from leaking, there are water barricades in the streets near the flood areas, etcetera etcetera.

Russell quietly listened as he nursed a cup of water. Gardenia has always been quite talkative-- but Russell had a feeling that recently, she probably hasn’t had much time to chat with others, especially someone her age. Although-- Gardenia always seemed to stop, and dance around an omitted topic-- nearly mentioning it before stopping herself and talking about something else,  or making an excuse. Russell was rather perturbed, but didn’t say anything-- she’ll have to tell him eventually if it keeps coming up in conversation.

The slam of the restaurant door made both Gardenia and Russell jump-- a hooded figure stood at the entrance, scanning the crowd, and when they caught sight of Gardenia-- the figure rushed over.

“Gardenia!” A voice rang-- worry stricken and familiar. 

The figure removed their hood, and Russell’s eyes caught sight of the oh-so-familiar head of brown hair he didn’t realize he missed seeing. 

“Chris?” Gardenia asked, standing up and Chris knelt over to catch his breath. “Chris-- what’s wrong?”

“The-- the--” Chris grabbed Gardenia by the shoulders, shaking her slightly. “The barricade broke, and one of the farms got flooded-- my-- my--”

“Chris… deep breaths.” Gardenia rubbed Chris’s forearms-- but he frantically shook his head.

“My-- my house--! It was flooded--” Chris’s voice cracked with panic-- raising octaves has he spoke. His eyes searched Gardenia for answers as he clung to her desperately. 

“Your house got flooded? But…” Gardenia had a fearful, uncertain look in her eyes.

Russell looked back and forth between the two-- and Chris seemed to finally break down, tears pouring from his eyes. Ugly sobs leaving his throat as he sunk to his knees, clinging to Gardenia’s skirt. He looked up, pleadingly-- pleading to Gardenia-- pleading to God, pleading to whoever would listen.

“My mom-- She’s trapped inside--” He cried, “--My mom’s going to drown--!”


	3. Water is Not a Kind Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Russell, Gardenia, and Chris go to save Chris's Mom, but the weather doesn't quite agree.

Hearts beat irregularly to the sound of splashing footsteps. Water pelted the faces of the three young teens and obscured their vision. The road ahead was muddy and difficult to navigate, but eventually led to the dangerous pool of rainwater and mud.  The flood moved with aggression, destroying all in its way.

The teens waded through the muddy waters, which rose in level the further they went. Chris cursed as the waters pushed them back, as if warning them of the consequences of continuing further. They proceeded despite the protests of the rain. 

The waters began to to reach their knees— a sudden surge of water splashing down on them. Gardenia was swept under the rushing waves, her scream cut short as water filled her mouth. Chris and Russell rushed to Gardenia’s side, pulling her out of the rushing waters by the shoulder and remaining by her side as her face turned red from coughing. Russell thumped his hand against her back, encouraging her coughing to ensure she didn’t inhale any of the water. Chris’s eyebrows furrowed in worry and frustration as he gripped Gardenia’s hand in his own, his train of thought running wildly against its tracks.

“Let’s go,” Russell said curtly, and pressed on as Gardenia leaned against him for support. Chris nodded and led the way. Their pace was considerably slower than before, and the water level rose even faster, forcing them to grip the fences on either side of the road to fight against the strong currents.

They reached the old farmhouse that Chris had lived in, and Russell felt a chill run down his spine. The windows were broken under the pressure of the raging waves, water pouring in and gushing out of the house. The house seemed to loom, leaking and bloating under the pressure of the water. At any moment it could burst— engulfing the three teens in tsunami of bitter water— leaving them to suffocate.

Chris tugged the front door open and was pushed off the patio by a rush of water. The water level quickly evened out, leaving the door hung wide open for them to pass through. Gardenia, Chris, and Russell advanced ahead, mindful of the floating miscellaneous house items and broken shards of glass, up the stairs that were blanketed with a thick layer of rushing water, having to duck underneath the surface just to get a little further. Russell felt the hair stand on the back of his neck as the old farmhouse creaked and groaned from the force. 

The sound of glass breaking alerted the teens, and they rushed to the room at the very back of the hall. Chris threw the door open and rushed in to find his mother gripping the ledge of a broken window. He rushed forward and pulled his mother back.

“Mom! What are you doing!?” Chris shook with fury, no,  _ fear. _

“Chris! Didn’t I tell you not to come back!?” Chris’s mother pushed him an arms length away, then glanced into the flooded hall. The water was waist level now—enough to sweep them off their feet at the slightest jolt. 

“I couldn’t just  _ leave _ you here! Not with—not with those  _ things _ out there!” 

Russell glanced at Gardenia with a quirked eyebrow. “Things?” his eyes seemed to ask. 

Gardenia looked away, biting her lip in uncertainty. 

Russell took a step forward, looking out of the broken window. It was a far drop below into muddy waters; unsafe, due to all the debris and floating remantants of destruction. Back in the hall, it was too flooded to try and return back to the bottom floor. Russell turned to the three others in the room.

“It’s not safe to dive,” Russell said, and took a moment to think. “We’re going to have to go to the roof and wait.” 

“Wait for what?” Chris asked, clenching the skirt of his mother as he held her close, shivering. 

“Wait for the house to burst,” Russell said. He used his poncho to protect his arm as he brushed away stray shards of glass from the window frame. “The roof should stay buoyant, even if the rest of the house falls apart.”

Russell gestured to the window. The three others glanced at each other with anxiety, before nodding at each other. It was the best—the  _ only _ option they had. 

Chris went through first. He was still nimble and quick from his days with Russell. He remembered when they had haphazardly climbed to the farmhouse rooftop and broke their steal from the bakery. Chris’s mother followed, supported by Chris as she struggled, muscles straining from exhaustion. Gardenia followed, Russell supporting her from below and Chris supporting her from above. While she had experience climbing trees, slick, wet roof tiles were a different story. 

Once Russell rolled onto the roof, they rushed to the highest peak, huddling together in wait. The house wobbled back and forth unnaturally. Russell gripped Gardenia and Chris’s sleeves with uncertainty. He desperately wanted to voice his suspicions and distress, but just... couldn't. He didn’t know how to make the words come out.

Gardenia held Russell’s hand reassuringly as Chris pulled his mom into a closer hold. The sound of thunder boomed from far away. A quick flash of lightning followed soon after in the distance. Russell felt blind awe at the sight of the white veins crossing the sky. So beautiful, yet terrifyingly destructive. 

The house below echoed the scream of thunder, and Russell felt a bone chilling shiver soak through his skin straight into his bones.

A blur of black—a shadow caught the corner of Russell’s eyes. He swung his head in its direction, but found nothing. He turned back to Gardenia, who looked away knowingly, averting her gaze from the truth. 

When were they going to tell him what was going on?

Another swirl of black zipped across Russell’s vision. Russell’s eyes followed the figure more closely this time, focusing on its blurred form. The swirl of black became more defined in shape as it slithered closer, closely followed by a blue and red present box. The creatures taking form of inanimate objects jutted forward, shambling around slowly, slipping repeatedly on the slick tiles. 

The four humans squeezed closer together, struggling to maintain distance as more and more monsters circled them. Gardenia quickly grabbed a loose tile from underneath her while Chris and his mother armed themselves with rain gutter pipes. 

Russell gripped the leather belt wrapped loosely around his hips, holding it in place. His sword rested heavy against his thigh. The knuckles of his other hand were white from the tense grip he had on its handle. His sword was hardly ever used on another living being… but these weren’t living beings.

The monsters inched forward—and with a swift swing, Russell severed one of the blue, ribbon-like tendrils of the box monster. It writhed and burned underneath the pelting rain. Russell breathed out heavily, words buzzing through his mind as he tried to figure out what in the name of all things holy  _ was _ that thing? 

No time to think. Red, hand-like figures were approaching, covered in viscous, oily black gunk smeared in a trail behind them. Russell parried their attacks as he glanced back over his shoulder. Chris and his mother were fending for themselves rather well, watching each other’s backs, while Gardenia managed to remain a safe distance away from the rest of the monsters. 

Another clash of thunder boomed. The farmhouse walls bent and snapped underneath the force of the fight, catching Russell’s attention. With another glance over his shoulder, Russell saw a large crack forming at the top of the roof, splitting down underneath Gardenia. 

He turned his back towards the monsters, rushing forward and throwing himself onto Gardenia. The two slid fast across the roof, spinning, slipping—falling to the edge—until they reached a teetering stop. 

They shuddered, frozen. Russell’s breath hitched and gasped as he squeezed Gardenia close. Gardenia shook in his hold, hugging him close as she sobbed into his shoulder. They scooted away from the edge. 

Russell scanned the roof as more monsters shambled closer to them. He only had a moment to process that he and Gardenia were split from the others before water crashed at the edges of the roof, tearing it in two. 

Chris called out to Russell and Gardenia, switching his attention between the monsters and the ever-growing distance between him and his friends. Russell smacked a flimsy monster with an ugly crying face with the side of his sword. Gardenia swiftly kicked away a soggy, box shaped monster as it washed up by their legs.

Water lapped at their feet. The roof was swept down a river that spiralled downward into the depths of a destroyed forest. Broken, twisted trunks of trees floated in the water as the roof rushed by, tiles shaving off by the second. Gardenia grabbed Russell by the shoulder, shouting into his ear, but Russell could barely hear her question over the rush of water and rain.

“What are we going to do!?”

Gardenia kicked away another one of the box-like creatures. It cried out as it fell into the rushing waters. Russell looked around for a solution with a frustrated groan as he lacerated another piece of paper in half. Russell looked into the distance, saw a box-creature lying idly in the trees, and thought of something.

“The ribbons!” Russell tugged Gardenia by her arm and pointed at the creature. “Are the ribbons part of the monster?”

“What--?” Gardenia glanced at the present-box creatures, squinting as she tried to study the creature. “I think so?”

Russell nodded sharply. He charged towards a box-creature that swung itself over the edge of the roof. A loud roar emerged from the depths of Russell’s chest as he swung the sword, but the creature deflected his attacks with ease. Russell swung the sword over his head, but was stopped as the creature wrapped its thin tendrils around his blade. 

Russell let out a whistle of a laugh through his nose. He leaned back and swung his sword wildly like a flail. The monster lifted off the ground, spinning in the air to the beat of Russell’s swinging.

Russell grabbed a stray tendril in a death grip. He eyed a rush of broken tree trunks that weaved in between the several pieces of broken-off roof pieces. A large tree came into view. Russell launched his sword like a javelin, puncturing a further-off tree. Russell turned to Gardenia, wrapping the stray tendril in his hands around a roof tile and shoving it into Gardenia’s arms.

“Throw it. Aim towards a large branch and make sure it wraps around.”

“Wh-what!?” Gardenia stared at the roof tile in her hands, and then looked over her shoulder at the countless trees that framed the flooded lands. “I-I can’t possibly-- I mean-- I never--”

“Gardenia.” 

Gardenia was startled out of her thoughts by Russell’s stoic voice, and turned her attention towards him. 

Russell did nothing more than give her a stern look, but she understood what he wanted to say. Over the few years she has known him, she became good at guessing what he was thinking. She felt relief. She could do this, she  _ had  _ to. 

Gardenia turned from Russell, to the edge of the fractured roof--and with all the might she could muster, threw the roof tile towards a random tree. Her aim was bad, but her luck made up for it; as the tile flew just past a large branch, the weight of the tile pulled the ribbon down. The momentum causing the tile to swing in a circular motion, wrapping around the branch, holding the ribbon securely in place. 

Russell busied himself with fending off more monsters, this time with a branch he fished up from the river. Gardenia shifted away from the edge of the roof until she was back-to-back with Russell, holding her fists up in a mock aggressive stance. Russell glanced over his shoulder, and then nudged her feet with his heel. 

“Your stance is weak.” He commented, saying nothing more as he batted another monster away, one like the animal he slipped and fell on just that afternoon.

Gardenia let out a little giggle, voice shaky with anxiety and fear. She swallowed the lump in her throat, and threw a fist at the closest monster, and when her fist made a connection she winced-- but was pleasantly surprised as the monster flew away from the force of her punch. She let out an exhilarated sigh before the adrenaline pushed her to continue fighting.

Russell glanced over his shoulder to watch the strung-up present monster that dangled in the air. Its free “arms” flailed wildly as other, similar creatures congregated to it. They formed a chain of intertwined monsters, arms braiding together and forming a thin, flexible barrier that forbade any trees from passing that point.

The trees gathered and created a brittle dam, and Russell prayed to God that it would hold the weight of the roofs against the rushing waters-- at least for a little bit. 

The clash of wood on wood caused both structures to groan in protest. The rushing waters screeched, demanding that they move. The roofs shook like leaves, leaving all 4 humans unbalanced, falling to their knees after failing to remain steady.

Russell gasped at a sudden jolt, the dam giving way as the water-logged trees slid past one another. His eyes traveled up, and he felt his heart accelerate as the monsters began to unravel themselves from one another--

The sound of thunder with no lightning resounded, and before Russell could register the noise he was falling. He couldn’t glance away from the oncoming wall of water, and was enveloped in a sea far colder than he already felt from being pelted by the rain.

The shock of breaking the surface left his skin numb as pounds of water weighed on him. Russell opened his eyes, looking up into the dark surface-- the noise of rain distant and muddled. Russell closed his eyes, breathing out slowly, the water cradling him…

_ Cradling… _

Russell remembered a warmth that he never knew he felt, contradicting the cold that soothed him now. It started in his belly, and seemed to envelope his chest. 

Russell opened his eyes, and a shadowy body dove in front of him, surrounded by a short-lived halo of bubbles. Their body obscured any sort of light he could see, making their features indistinct. Initially Russell believed it was another monster, due to the thin tendrils that flowed wildly around it, but was then distracted by a trail of red that followed him. 

A sharp pain stabbed him through the abdomen, and if Russell could, he would’ve screamed. He clenched his side cringing as two arms wrapped themselves around him. He struggled as the unknown being dragged him towards the surface, their hold putting an uncomfortable pressure on his wound. 

The moment he broke the surface, Russell inhaled deeply, but his lungs felt empty as he was dragged onto the shallow bank of the large lake. He heaved and coughed, gagging until his stomach was emptied. Faintly, he heard a loud splash of water, and with bleary eyes he glanced over his shoulder and saw a blob of white hair, greyed from carrying water. Still gasping for air, his eyes dragged from Gardenia, to the ground, to the forest in front of him, his vision blurring with a fuzzy black ring framing his sight. Strange creatures and reflective eyes skittered in the dark but never approached, never came closer. They simply stared with empty eyes. They simply observed without feeling any sort of curiosity. 

Russell’s arms gave out from underneath him, and his chest felt constricted. His face landed into an acrid puddle that was uncomfortably warm, that only accentuated the cold air. Russell felt exhaustion set into his bones, and wondered if he felt worse before. 

Russell shifted his arm up, holding onto his burning wound, and pressed against it as firmly as he could muster-- before succumbing to the dark haze that tempted him into sleeping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not very good at writing action scenes, but I really liked how this chapter turned out!  
I feel like some characters are rather ooc but oh well...


	4. It Takes Three Kids to Raise a Village

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris, Russell and Gardenia decide to go to the capital after deciding that all the other villagers are incompetent.

When Russell awoke, he still felt exhausted.

He simply stared up at the paved roof above him and vaguely wondered when Yumi was going to come bursting through the door to tell him what was on today’s agenda. Russell waited, and then realized.

His room back at the barracks didn’t have stone roofs-- they had wooden beams.

Yumi wasn’t going to come in with her smile that shone brighter than the morning sun.

He never woke up exhausted when he was still living with the other knights.

Russell felt fatigue weigh down on him, making his limbs further sink into the uncomfortable bed, and he wondered if he could go back to sleep, but he was alerted by the sound of shuffling outside the white curtain of his makeshift, temporary room.

The clinic. He was at the town’s clinic.

Russell looked down at the foot of his bed, muscles aching as he lifted a hand to touch his bandaged torso. Cringing at the pain, he let his head fall back against the clumpy, yellowed pillow and with a sigh, and closed his eyes.

It wasn’t a dream. Coming to this place, Gardenia, Chris, his mom, the dam, the waterfall. It all happened. 

He wished it didn’t. He wished he was back at the barracks, with the other knights. With Yumi. With a full stomach and nothing to really think or worry about. Nothing to trouble himself with.

Russell’s eyes snapped open, and he glared at the roof. Mentally scolding himself.

_ ‘Yumi would be disappointed if she found out I was thinking this _ . _ ’ _

Russell sat up, slowly, painstakingly-- until an old nurse wandered in, realizing he was up. 

“Oh, Mr. Saeger--” Russell reflexively grunted, feeling his throat close “--you’re awake.”

Russell simply nodded, and the old nurse smiled, shuffling to him and taking his hand in her cold, wrinkly one.

“Please rest, sweetheart.” Her voice croaked in a familiar way. While normally Russell would refuse, he found himself obeying her request without realizing. “You gave us quite the scare last night.”

“Sorry for troubling you.” Russell mumbled. The nurse simply laughed and placed a hand to his head.

“It’s no worry, you give us work to do.” The nurse frowned and held Russell’s head in her hands, pressing her lips to his forehead. Russell gave her a quizzical stare, and she laughed once more. “My old hands are too cold to measure your temperature.”

Russell simply nodded, and then looked down at his bandaged up hands. His palms felt raw and he could feel the ointment burning them. Russell looked back at the nurse, who was writing down on a piece of paper. 

“You said… last night…” Uncertainty laced his words. Russell couldn’t quite remember what happened after he was drawn up from the lake. The nurse hummed.

“A few of the farmers wanted to check the area by the lake after hearing some strange things.” The old lady wandered around the room, getting bandage dressings and more ointment. Russell frowned, unused to these sort of medical procedures. “They found you lot on the edge of the lake, soaked to the bone--”

“Are they okay?” Russell widened his eyes, and held a hand over his mouth. Then mumbled out an apology for interrupting the old nurse. The nurse just continued smiling and shrugged off his apology.

“Chris and Gardenia are okay…” The old woman shambled back to Russell, a pitying smile on her face. “Chris’s mother, however…”

The woman trailed off, and looked over her shoulder, through the white curtain that was left open. Russell leaned forward, the pain in his abdomen not stopping him. His eyebrows furrowed as peered into another room, seeing a bed surrounded by many people wearing similar but distinct uniforms to that of the old nurse. Russell gave the old nurse an uncertain gaze, chewing the inside of his cheek to distract himself from the vague, swimming thoughts he couldn’t quite pinpoint.

“You’re quite the lucky clover.” The old nurse gently grabbed Russell’s arm, undoing the bandages and tending to the scrapes and scratches he wasn’t aware he had. “With all these deep wounds you got, and sleepin’ in murky water-- you could have gotten an infection.”

“That’s not possible.” Russell stated quietly. “I’m protected.”

The nurse continued to tend to Russell’s wounds anyways. She didn’t question whatever magic or charm he had to protect himself, she just continued to carefully inspect his wounds and disinfect them with meticulous care.

“Pneumonia.” The old nurse stated softly. Russell didn’t respond, but understood what she meant. “That’s what she gets from divin’ in and trying to save someone when she hardly knows how to swim on her own.”

Russell unconsciously clenched the sheet to his side. His eyes scrutinized every fold and wrinkle in the woven sheets. His thoughts were still unclear, but grew in agitation that strained his shoulders. The nurse glanced up at the boy, concern that he couldn’t see in her eyes. 

"At the rate you're healing you should be able to get up and get into more trouble soon enough." The nurse patted Russell's re-wrapped bicep, smiling reassuringly. Russell nodded, then his eyes drifted off to the open curtains. The nurse followed his eyes, and leaned back in her chair. “Your legs aren’t all that hurt-- so you’re free to take a walk to keep your muscles strong.”

The nurse stood from the creaky chair, shuffling her way out of Russell’s room. She paused before she left, giving Russell another, warm smile.

“Don’t push yourself, Russell.” She shook her head slightly, grabbed the curtain, and closed it behind her.

Russell shot up from the clinic bed, making a short sprint towards the curtain and pulling it open the moment he was within grabbing distance. As his gaze rounded both sides of the hall, he found no one-- though he believed it impossible for that snail of a nurse to disappear so quickly. He let out a loud sigh before crossing to the other side of the makeshift hallway. Doctors and nurses filed out of the room, giving Russell a nod, which he returned as he waited for the whole group to leave. 

Russell quietly crept into the room, his eyes scanning the premise for other people. He found a nurse-- one much younger than the one who tended to his needs-- at the bedside of Chris’s mother, Chris sitting by his mother’s side in a chair far too small for him, and Gardenia by a window, staring through the glass without looking at anything in particular.

Russell settled himself beside Chris, nodding to Gardenia as he passed by her. Chris made no move to acknowledge Russell’s presence, but Russell knew he was aware. Russell didn’t shift from his spot, and simply looked at Chris’s mother, and her sickly sallow appearance. The nurse on the other side of the bed began to straighten out the various medical tools on the tray beside her, straightening out the damp cloth on Chris’s mother’s forehead.

“Okay Mr. Karst, I will be taking my leave.” The nurse nodded to Chris, picking up the tray in her hands. “I will be back in an hour or so to check up on your mother, but if you need anything just go to the front desk and ask for Lily and I’ll come as soon as I can.”

Chris closed his eyes, then nodded tiredly, folding his arms onto the edge of his mother’s bed and laying his head down on them. Russell felt his muscles tense, clenching and unclenching his hands as he stood restlessly. Gardenia smiled from her spot at the window as she watched Russell, his face showing a twinge of worry as he awkwardly stood, unmoving and unsure of how to comfort his friend in a time of need.

Before he left, Russell wouldn’t have made such a worried face.

Gardenia grabbed Russell by the shoulder and gently tugged Russell outside of the makeshift room. Once they were out in the hallway, Gardenia tugged the drape of the room over a little, leaving it open just a crack as she observed Chris, turning back to face Russell. Unexpectedly, she had to tilt her head ever so slightly up to look at Russell. Chris used to joke that Russell would never outgrow Gardenia, but was proven wrong in this moment, although he wasn’t taller by much. She smiled, glad he grew more during his time away.

Her smile was kind, but tired, and Russell wondered where she mustered the strength to keep smiling. 

“Let’s let him be for now.” Gardenia let out a soft, wistful sigh, before turning to Russell. “He’ll need time with his own thoughts for now.”

Russell hummed in response, and Gardenia took a step back, maintaining an awkward distance between them. She shifted to adjust her gown-- and it was only then that Russell realized that Gardenia, too, was wearing a clinic gown. She continued smiling as she talked on about this and that, how it was going to be okay, and how Chris’s mother would be fine. Russell felt an uncomfortable gap gnaw at his head as Gardenia continued to speak. Her face was red, and she would occasionally break her speech to collect herself. Russell recognized that sort of expression, it was one he saw often in the barracks, where people from all walks of life suffered and endured, but continued on for the sake of living.

Was Gardenia suffering too?

At this thought, Russell took a step forward. A single pair of steps that silenced Gardenia’s train of thought. Russell’s hand twitched, but restrained himself from reaching out to Gardenia. Russell’s mouth zipped closed as he stared down at Gardenia, her face showed confusion and curiosity, wondering what he was going to say. The same face that was so expressive, but so secretive. The face that made her open like a book, but Russell found himself noticing expressions he never found himself aware of before. Faces that he never wants Gardenia, nor anyone else, to make. Faces that he saw far too often. Faces that hid their feelings for the sake of others.

“It’s okay to cry, Gardenia.”

Gardenia’s breath hitched, as she stared at Russell’s unmoving expression. Her eyes searched his face, and instead of finding the same old listless expression she expected, she found a sympathy and melancholy. At this realization, Gardenia felt her face grow hot, pressure building until she just couldn’t stop the stinging tears from escaping her eyes and flowing down her cheeks. Her nose began to run as she choked up, holding her face in her hands and quietly sobbing. Russell looked off to the side, uncomfortable, before looking back at Gardenia and taking another step forward, looping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her closer. Gardenia wrapped her arms around Russell’s waist and began to sob into his shoulder, and Russell opted to pat the back of her head, much like Yumi did when he got badly hurt-- although he didn’t quite remember being such a messy crier, or a crier at all for that matter. 

Gardenia’s sobs calmed down to the occasional hiccup, and Russell hummed gently. 

“Are you okay?” Russell asked, as Gardenia was standing silently for quite some time.

“Yes.” Gardenia said, her voice muffled by Russell’s shoulder.

“Are you going to let go?”

“No, I’m gross right now.” Gardenia pressed her face closer to Russell’s shoulder, hugging Russell closer. Russell grunted, patting Gardenia’s shoulders. “It’s not ladylike.”

“I don’t think you have to worry about that now.” Russell stated softly, gently pushing Gardenia away. She was right, her face  _ was _ gross. And snot-covered. Like a baby.

“Why are you smiling like that?” Gardenia pouted, turning her head away, and Russell touched his cheeks, the feeling of muscles turning his lips upwards nonexistent. Gardenia rubbed her nose with her sleeve, and broke out into giggles. “You were smiling with your eyes, Russell.”

“My eyes?” Russell touched underneath his eyes, and gave Gardenia a quizzical glance, which made Gardenia laugh again, but this time it was more genuine, from her heart, unrestrained. 

Gardenia was cuter when she was less ladylike. 

Gardenia’s laughter died down, her eyes were puffy from crying, but her heart felt clear. She let out a sigh, a lighthearted one, and let her eyes furrow down as she felt tears prick her eyes once more.

“Russell, I’m sorry.” Gardenia’s voice was small. Russell tilted his head, frowning. “For not tell you about the demons.”

Russell’s eyes widened a fraction in realization. That completely slipped his mind.

“I should’ve told you but I just… I didn’t want you to come back home after being away for so long and find out that your home has been completely overrun with monsters.” Gardenia let out a groan as she crossed her arms, scraping the bottom of her slippers against the floorboards. “Now that I think about it, that was stupid of me. You probably ran into a few on your way here.”

“Yeah, that is stupid.” Russell spoke his thoughts aloud, earning a soft punch to the shoulder by Gardenia. He rubbed the spot she punched, and winced. She was a lot stronger than she looked-- guess cooking does require some strength. “But… you had good intentions.”

Gardenia nodded in agreement. 

“A few months after you left, while the weather has been getting worse those--” Gardenia struggled to find the words, “-- _ things _ began appearing

“Initially it was just a couple. They looked like normal animals at a glance… but then they began to look... _ wrong _ . They would stay out of people's way, but then they began to move closer, and closer, along with the floods.

“And now they’ve been running around in the town, in people’s homes, stealing and terrorizing people.  _ Hurting _ people. At first, we would fight back, but now we just… try our best to keep them away, which doesn’t--” Gardenia looked back at Chris’s mother, “--It doesn’t always work. People have been getting hurt, and all the people in charge just think it’s best if we just-- just hide away and do  _ nothing _ .”

Russell nodded as he listened. He wondered if this is why he was sent back, to take care of this issue-- but then he came to the conclusion that no one really knew about this problem, otherwise they would’ve told him.

“I don’t think just standing by and doing nothing is the right choice…” Gardenia continued on, “you saw what it’s like out there. People are sick and dying and hungry… but I don’t know what else we  _ can _ do. I thought about going to the Emerald Kingdom to ask for help, but…”

“They’re saying it’s too dangerous.” Russell finished. Gardenia nodded solemnly. Russell already knew this. 

“I want to give the Emerald Kingdom the benefit of the doubt, but…” Gardenia shook her head. “And we can’t ask another kingdom… they wouldn’t have the jurisdiction to do anything about our village’s… issues.”

Russell peaked through the curtain into the room. Chris stood by his mother’s bed, changing out the towel on her forehead.

Russell felt his stomach clench as he looked at her sickly appearance. Chest heaving in uneven, shallow breaths, the occasional, throaty cough breaking through. Chris’s hunched over form as he clenched his mother’s hand. The same mother who let Russell overstay his welcome in their home. The same mother who shared their already poor rations with him to make sure he had food in his stomach. The same mother who taught him to read and write despite her own struggles. The same mother who praised both him and Chris when they brought back their first report cards with shiny gold stamps on them. The same mother who kissed him on the forehead before he left on a train, on a cold winter day, giving him an extra scarf, explaining that it was colder in the north.

“Let’s go.”

The words flew out of his mouth before he could stop them-- and Gardenia was startled by his quite outburst. 

“What?” 

Russell face Gardenia, eyes burning with an unfamiliar sort of conviction Gardenia never knew was possible.

“Let’s go to the capital.” Russell grabbed Gardenia’s hands, squeezing them reassuringly. “Let’s go to the king, and ask him-- no--  _ demand _ to help us, to help the village.”

Gardenia was speechless, but a grin quickly crawled onto her face, and she bounced on her heels.

“Yes! Let’s go!” Gardenia slipped her hands out of Russell’s, and spun around giddily before returning to Russell’s side. “Thank you, Russell.”

Gardenia’s eyes held tender sort of affection that Russell was unused to, but no longer avoided. Russell nodded, and turned their heads as the curtain next to them slid open.

“If you guys are headin’ to the capital, I’m coming with you.” Chris’s eyes were tired, but he was determined, grinning with confidence. “Who knows-- maybe there’s a fancy mage or doctor up there that can help my mom.”

Russell nodded as Chris and Gardenia began to converse about the capital. Russell watched Chris’s smile, one he made to reassure others, a smile he wore on his sleeve. Chris was confident, but Russell was unsure whether or not that smile was one made with confidence.

“We should make sure we’re all healed up before heading out.” Russell stated, gesturing vaguely to the wounds the three of them sustained.

“Shouldn’t we get permission from the village head’s before leaving?” Gardenia asked, frowning.

Russell narrowed his eyes down, shaking his head.

“You don’t need to ask permission from anyone to leave.” Chris answered, then gestured to Russell. “Russ didn’t really ask anyone when he left. He just said he was gonna leave and then scrammed as soon as he could.”

“I was recruited… which is different.” Russell shrugged. “As long as we can afford the journey, we can go.”

A loud, ugly cough emerged from the room behind them, and Chris darted in-- rushing to his mother’s side. Russell and Gardenia closely followed, concerned for his mother. As the harsh coughs died down, Chris’s mother opened her eyes and smiled weakly at the three kids in front of her.

“I see you’re all okay.” She spoke softly, voice hoarse and straining. Chris shushed his mother softly, mumbling at her not to push herself to talk. Chris’s mother reassured her fretting son that she was okay. 

“Mom, we’re going to get you help, okay?” Chris rubbed his mother’s knuckles with his thumb, speaking in an uncharacteristically soft tone. His mother smiled up at him, exhausted from battle after battle. 

“Sure, sure, son.” Chris’s mother smiled. “I heard your talk, about going to the capital.”

The three children glanced at each other, warily. Chris’s mother simply shook her head, sighing as she relaxed against the clinic bed.

“I’m not going to stop you, or say you can’t do it.” She let out a small laugh. “I feel kind of irresponsible, but you three are more stubborn than you let on sometimes.”

Chris’s mother reached up and ran a hand through Chris’s hair, ruffling it weakly. Normally, Chris would protest and complain, but today he sat without a complaint, leaning into his mother’s touch. 

“Russell, Gardenia--” The two stood, attention focused on Chris’s mother, “--take care of my Chris, would you? Make sure he doesn’t get into trouble.”

Chris groaned, tugging at his mother’s sleeve.

“Mom…” He drawled, embarrassed. “I’m not a kid.”

“Yes, you are.” His mother teased-- and the four exchanged laughter. “You three are the beloved children of this little village,”

Russell frowned at the term “beloved”, however, he felt a twinge of hope that it may be true.

“And because of that, that’s why I feel like you can succeed on this journey. I trust you three. You’re much more capable than the other villagers believe.”

Despite Russell being familiar with these words, coming from both Chris’s mother and Yumi, his still felt a strange surge of motivation, a flighty feeling that made him feel like he could really do it. Surely, Chris and Gardenia felt the same. 

The three children nodded resolutely.

The were going to the capital. They had to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like this chapters was a teeny bit rushed. But then again I feel that way for every chapter.
> 
> I think I was actually crying while writing Gardenia's Moment TM.
> 
> I can't tell if Russell is OOC or not. 
> 
> Yea, I made Chris and his mom's last name Karst bc... why not


	5. There's No Reason to Stay When Home Has Nothing For You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Russell is good at planning, but bad at talking to people.
> 
> The trio decide to leave town the next day.

Russell let a sigh whistle out through his nose as a block of graphite rolled out of his hand. His eyes meticulously studied every detail in the map on the table, other hand drumming against the edge of the wooden floor he sat upon. He could feel the gazes of the townspeople drill into his back, nervous, suspicious glances.

He knew why. How did the saying go…

_“Never involve yourself with a Seager unless you want your tongue ripped out and nailed into a wall.”_

That only happened once, when his father was drunk enough to brawl with someone outside their conjugal family. Since then people avoided him like the plague, more so than usual, believing him to be the one who caused the fight simply because he was an observer.

Russell scoffed. As if he was exempt from such treatment.

Russell felt his eyes drift off the parchment to Chris and Gardenia, ignoring the fact that his fellow patrons not-so-discreetly whirled their heads in the opposite direction to avoid his gaze. 

_“If you meet his gaze, you’ll be cursed.”_ The passerby’s would whisper. _“Eyes so blue that they will drown you the very next day.”_

Russell mused on the thought. It was ironic, as he observed how Gardenia happily chatted away with the customers. Mutual, shared smiles and a halo of happiness, one that was not forced or artificial, surrounding them.

His eyes, and Gardenia’s eyes were not so different in color, so why was Gardenia’s gaze so beloved, while his so cursed? He knew the reason why, although he didn’t quite want to admit it. It wasn’t because his eyes were actually bad, but it was because the people just wanted a superficial reason to avoid him.

Russell turned away, deciding to focus on eating instead. The soup was cold. 

“Hey, Russell.” 

Chris’s familiar voice chimed from beside Russell, and Russell raised his head and gave Chris a silent nod as a greeting. Chris grinned, and didn’t bother to suppress the loud growling of his stomach, in which Russell pushed his food over to Chris to eat.

“Not hungry?” Chris inquired. Russell merely shrugged and looked back at the map. 

“I can get food later.” Russell mumbled, having lost his appetite. 

“Ah, the power of money and being paid by the empire. What’s it like, Sir Russell?” Chris teased. Russell rolled his eyes.

“I hardly qualify as a proper squire.” Russell leaned over to pick up the block of graphite-on-wood that was elbowed off the table.

“Is that _ attitude _ I’m hearing?” Chris mocked shock, taking a crunchy loaf of bread and crumbling it into pieces into his soup. 

“No.” Russell answered dryly, and Chris laughed once more, mixing the crumbs into the soup. “That’s going to taste gross, Chris.”

“How so?” Chris inquired, squinting at Russell with suspicion. “Did you poison my soup?”

“Maybe.” Russell didn’t spare Chris a glance, eyes narrowing down at the paper as he held a hand over his lower face, hiding a smirk that crawled onto his face at the sound of Chris choking on the concoction of cold-soup-and-bread. “The soup is cold.”

“Please tell me that before I eat it.” Chris sighed, albeit dramatically, and continued eating. It’s not like the food was stale. “Whatcha doin’?”

“Planning.” Russell let out a sigh. “We have to plan our trip ahead of time if we want to get to the north as soon as possible.”

Chris leaned over, peeling an apple with a small knife and handing the skin to Russell, who nibbled on the snack with gratitude. Chris pointed to the railroad leading out of their village from the bottom right of the map, which followed the perimeter of the island.

“Why don’t we just take the train?” Chris asked, further carving the apple into an amorphous blob and eating the excess chunks. “That’s what you did when you decided to accept that apprenticeship.”

“I checked the station this morning.” Russell marked the railroad leading out of the town with a dark ‘X’, some weird apple-condensation from the apple skin he ate smudging onto the map. “Because the floods have been reaching the rail lines in our village, the trains are going to take a detour route…”

“...and they skip our town entirely.” Chris sighed, admiring the apple he carved into the shape of a nondescript poultry before biting off its head. “Lady luck sure is on our side.”

Russell let out a sigh as he plucked a leaf of lettuce from a bowl of salad and nibbled on it, pointing to a port-side city to the left of the map. It was only partially attached to the continent, and only seemed to be inhabited on the coast, due to the scarce markings of buildings on the center of the peninsula.

“We should go here first.” Russell pointed to a side of the peninsula that had more buildings marked down. “Seaside. It’s a good pit stop, we don’t have to waste a lot of energy traveling if we just take a boat…”

“Aren’t boats more expensive though?” Chris groaned, counting on his fingers as he calculated how much money he would have to save to pay off the price of the trip, along with his mother’s medical bills. He laughed dryly and gave Russell a pleading, desperate smile.

“It’ll take longer to travel on foot… we can get on a boat for free.” Russell traced a dotted path from the dock closest to their hometown, through the ocean to the docks of Seaside City.

“Do you have like… special knight-ly connection or ability that allows us to pay 3 tickets for the price of none?”

“Yes,” Russell leaned close to Chris, his expression dead serious, “It’s called becoming a stowaway.”

“Russell, that’s illegal.”

“So?”

“So… let’s try to..._ not _ get arrested for sneaking onto a boat?”

“...’s easier than sneaking onto a train.” 

“Russell, how easy it is is _ not _ the problem.” Russell rolled his eyes, gesturing to the map.

“Do you have any ideas?”

Chris squinted down at the map as Russell picked at his nails. Chris was smart, and Russell knew that any other alternative was either more dangerous, more expensive, or would take far too long, or any combination of the three. Chris seemed to surrender, leaning back in his chair with a shake of his head.

“Boats hardly have any security. They never check cargo...”

Chris frowned and poked around the salad and inspected a cherry tomato, before dropping it back into salad with a dramatic groan of disgust. Russell continued mumbling the pros and cons of taking a train or boat. Chris listened idly, and began paging through the various other pieces of paper spread out on the low table. 

Most of it were ideas and alternate paths, along with calculations and budgeting. Russell was really thinking this through, and it made Chris smile. Russell wouldn't be nearly as detail oriented or passionate about this trip 4 years ago.

Chris pulled out a piece of paper that was much more formally filled out than the others, which had shorthand notes and arrows pointing every which way. It was neat, but many sentences were crossed out and rewritten. Chris recognized this format, receiving the same kind of paper from Russell on occasion while he was gone.

It was a letter.

"Oh?" Chris grinned and elbowed Russell in the side, speaking in a teasing tone. "Who's 'Yumi'? A girl?"

Russell squinted at Chris, before turning back to the map.

"She isn't just some girl..." Russell tried to focus on the map, but couldn't as Chris gasped in shock.

"Who is she? Is she your girlfriend?" Chris leaned closer to Russell, excited as he clenched the paper in his hands. "Did you have a fated encounter? Brush hands while reaching for the same thing in the bazaar? C'mon Russ-- you _ gotta _tell me."

"_ No-- _she's my--" Russell grunted as Chris leaned on him, wrapping his arms around Russell's waist. "Chris, she's my m--"

"I'm so proud of you! I'm going to cry out of pure joy!" Chris dramatically wiped a fake tear from his eye, and Russell rolled his eyes as he pushed Chris off of him.

"She's my _ mentor. _" Russell held a hand to his left forearm, fingertips lightly tracing the scratches and stitchings in the leather vambrace. “She was the knight who I was contracted with during my apprenticeship.”

Chris nodded understandingly, listening attentively to his friend, then gestured to the letter.

“So why are you writing her a letter? Are you two close?” Chris looked over the letter, noticing the variously scribbled out and re-written words and phrases. Russell was overthinking what to write.

“I…” Russell looked away, and into the fireplace. The air around him felt forlorn, and Russell tilted his head down, reminiscent of an abandoned cat on the street, lonely but defensive. Russell bit his lip, before answering carefully. “I look up to her.”

“That’s a first.” Chris joked, trying to lighten up the mood. He nudged Russell again, and dropped the letter back onto the table. “It’s rare we find ourselves trusting adults, ya’ know.”

_ Trust. _

Russell felt his stomach twist as he kept thinking. How _ did _ he feel about Yumi? He _does_ trust her, but for some reason the idea made his stomach twist in the wrong way. Surely, Yumi would never break his trust, right?

Russell felt his heart clench.

“The…” Russell swallowed thickly, throat dry. He gestured to the map. “The plan.”

“Right.” Chris leaned back onto the table and inspected the map, shrugging. “I guess we’ll just take the ship… ‘s more likely for us to get arrested for sneaking onto a train, anyways.”

“We’ll just have to make sure we stay out of sight until we get to shore…” Russell took out a small slip of paper, and handed it to Chris. It had words scrawled on it in poor handwriting, and a stamp. 

“This is…?” 

“Receipt.” Russell went back to writing on another sheet of paper, calculating. “Found it by the docks. Someone forgot to keep it on them.”

“It’s for barrels of… _ rice? _” Chris squinted, trying to read it. Russell nodded in confirmation.

“They need to receipt to get the barrels on the ship…” Russell frowned, tapping his fingers against the edge of the table as he calculated prices. “I think it would be more efficient to just sneak on and leave the receipt somewhere for the owner to find instead of trying to bribe them.”

“What about the weight?” Chris handed the paper back to Russell.

“Too light.” Russell looked over his shoulder at Gardenia. “‘Specially Gardenia and I. Our supplies will probably balance it out.”

“And if something happens to the boat?” 

“We’ll improvise.” Russell gathered up his papers, leaving a blank sheet on top, and began writing on it. “After reaching Seaside, we will be traveling on foot for a very long time, so we should take out time preparing and building up our supplies carefully…”

“... And not buy unnecessary supplies, right?” Chris finished off. Russell nodded, and pointed to a trail, dragging his finger diagonally across the map. “This trek will be the quickest-- but there’s basically no towns along the way. We’ll have to camp out for quite a few days.”

“Gardenia is a good cook, and because of the famine she and her dad have been doing a good job rationing out meals while still making them quite hearty.” Chris gestured to the meal. “Which means : lots of soup.”

Russell nodded, holding a hand to his chin, thinking.

“Gardenia’s cooking skills will be very helpful.” Russell glanced down at the sword that rested on the floor, waiting patiently to be of use. “While I’m not exactly trained for it, I can hunt… and I know quite a few survival skills… Chris, you street smarts will be rather helpful, too.”

Chris deflated, frowning, leaning on the table with a whine.

“That means I’m stuck haggling, right?” Chris let out a groan. “I don’t have a real special skill, huh?”

“You’re very good at many things.” The sound of papers being straightened out sounded, the map folded up and tucked into Russell’s journal, which made its way into the small bag connected to Russell’s leather belt. “Which is better than being good at only one thing. It means you are dependable.”

Russell stood up from the floor, picking up his sword and fastening it to his side. He wasn’t looking at Chris, but rather staring into the fireplace as he tightened up his belt.

“Please tell Gardenia the plan. Both of you should be ready by this afternoon.” Russell looked down at Chris, who looked concerned. “We should travel while the rain is resting. We can get to the docks faster.”

“That’s…” Chris stood up as well, gesturing outside. “Shouldn’t we wait at least another day? I mean… shouldn’t _ you _wait at least another day? You just got back…”

Russell tilted his head. 

“What’s the issue?” Russell tried to think about what Chris is worried about, but came up with nothing.

“Well, you _ just _ got here yesterday-- and you’re already leaving.” Chris rubbed the back of his neck, trying to find the words to explain his thought process. “Shouldn’t you stay a little longer?”

“Are you and Gardenia afraid of leaving so soon?” Russell believed Chris’s concern for him was an excuse to delay leaving, which he understood. They had people who would worry and miss them, people they needed to say goodbye so soon. “We can say goodbye before we go.”

“_ No _ \-- Russell, that’s…” Chris shook his head, before putting a hand on Russell’s shoulder, firmly squeezing it. Russell didn’t quite know how to feel. “I’m worried about _ you _, Russ. Isn’t there people you should say hi to? People who missed you while you were gone?”

Russell opened his mouth to retort, before closing it. His answer would be too sad, and he didn’t want to upset Chris. Russell looked over his shoulder, into the kitchen-- where Gardenia and her father smiled and laughed as they prepared food. Russell, looked back at Chris, stare hardened.

“I said hi to you and Gardenia.” 

That was all he said, before stepping away from Chris-- watching as Chris’s arm slipped off his shoulder and to Chris’s side.

Russell took a few steps over to the door, turning head to address Chris, but not looking at him. He shouldn’t see Chris’s expression. No-- he didn’t _ want _ to see Chris’s expression.

“Be at the train platform by 2.” 

Russell looked back to the door and left, lips zipped up tight.

**Author's Note:**

> Am I going to make every single chapter title something fake deep and/or needlessly elaborate? yes. I'm just that extra.
> 
> Anyways I hope you guys enjoy my uhhh fanfiction yes.
> 
> Edit : Spelling and grammar, still going through revisions.


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